The Silent Watcher

It always begins with a glimpse. A shadow at the edge of your vision. A figure just out of focus. At first, you think it’s a trick of the light, a smudge on your glasses, an overactive imagination. But then it happens again.

The presence lingers.

Void does not speak. It does not move. It only watches.

You see it in the reflection of a store window, in the darkened corner of your bedroom, in the background of a photograph you swear it wasn’t in before. At first, it’s distant. Unintrusive. But the longer you notice it, the closer it seems to get.

People have tried to describe Void, but words never do it justice. It is darkness given shape, a hollow figure with vast, unblinking white eyes. There is no malice in its gaze, nor kindness. Only patience.

Those who have encountered it try to rationalize its presence. Some believe it’s an echo of an old legend, a remnant of some ancient entity that exists outside human understanding. Others think it’s a figment of mass hysteria, a psychological trick the mind plays when it craves an explanation for something inexplicable. But theories hold no power against the weight of Void’s gaze.

The first few sightings are easy to dismiss. But then the reports start.

“I saw it outside my house. Just standing there.”

“It was in my mirror. I turned around, and nothing was there, but when I looked back… it had moved closer.”

“I don’t think it’s following me. I think it’s waiting for me to realize something.”

What that something is, no one can say.

Some try to ignore it. They pretend not to see it, pretend it’s a hallucination, an illusion. But ignoring Void never makes it leave. If anything, it makes the presence stronger. The moment you recognize its eyes upon you, it never truly looks away.

A man once tried to escape it by leaving his city, moving to a remote cabin deep in the mountains. But one night, he woke up to find his reflection standing beside his bed, its white eyes staring down at him. He vanished without a trace by morning, and the cabin remained eerily untouched.

At some point, those haunted by Void begin to notice a shift.

It’s subtle at first. The feeling of being watched doesn’t go away, even when Void isn’t present. Reflections in mirrors linger a second too long. Shadows stretch unnaturally when no one is near them. The uneasy sensation grows, pressing against the back of the skull like an itch that can’t be scratched.

And then comes the final realization.

Void is not the one watching.

You are.

Some victims report catching glimpses of something else in their reflection—an unfamiliar figure standing behind them, watching with a gaze identical to Void’s. Others claim that when they blink, their reflection doesn’t blink with them.

Then, one day, they look in the mirror and find themselves gone.

A woman named Eliza wrote down her experiences in a journal. She described how she first saw Void outside her apartment window, then in her hallway mirror. As time passed, she became unable to recognize her own reflection. One night, she wrote, "I saw myself in the mirror, but it wasn’t me. It smiled." The next day, she disappeared.

No one knows what happens to those who vanish. Their homes remain untouched, their belongings undisturbed, their doors left unlocked. The only thing missing is them.

And in their place, a new witness begins to see Void.

Perhaps Void does not hunt. Perhaps it does not haunt. Perhaps it only seeks the next pair of eyes.

Waiting. Watching. Replacing.

Some believe Void is a force older than time, a fragment of the abyss that lurks beyond perception. Others whisper that Void is not watching people—it is showing them something. A truth too vast and terrifying for the human mind to comprehend. But by the time they understand, it is too late.

There is a test, they say, to know if Void has already found you.

Stand before a mirror in a dimly lit room. Look into your own eyes and hold your gaze. Do not blink. Do not look away.

If, after a few minutes, you feel nothing—if the air remains still, if your reflection remains unchanged—you are safe.

But if you see something shift, if your reflection tilts its head when you do not, if the eyes staring back at you do not feel like your own—then it is already too late.

Void has seen you.

And soon, you will be next.